Text to Cait: It went GREAT! The job was a sucess, bagged the sucker! Home looked fantastic, all of my Grandmother's flowers were in bloom and we have a couple more pups in the family! I can't wait to show you the picture of them and the woods behind Grandmother's house! Everything looks so pretty!

Blinked. Army of children? Was frightened. "Well, it could work. Diamond, Jewel, Pearl, and so on." Honestly, it sounded like a lot of little girls with daddy issues but would keep that to herself. This woman seemed too nice for honesty.

Green hues blinked hard with surprise at the redhead who seemed to be concerned with his demeanor. At first all he could manage were stutters. Was everybody here so extroverted? "Uh, hi. No, I'm not very cranky." As he spoke, his thick Cajun accent was blatant in his words. "Do I look cranky? It might be my RBF acting up. Name's Beau, by the way."

Lloyd had given into the wilderness inside himself. The past few months had worn him down to the most primal parts of himself, and his presence at Arcadia was scarce. Jane's death (or disappearance) had broken something within him. He was no longer a struggling sentimentalist (who occasionally murdered people for sport), but a more domineering, abrasive man. He was even foreign to himself, with unkempt, growing hair and a beard that was growing out of control. He hardly slept, and was always in a rather manic-depressive mood.

When he did resurface, he seemed most himself, a practiced facade to keep Caitlyn and the boys at ease. He had always been a good liar - this was no different. But he could feel something changing within him fundamentally. And the wild was calling, as it had before. But it wasn't so tame as before. It felt truly savage.

Before leaving, Lloyd scribbled a note. He didn't take any bags. Nothing would show he'd left except the lack of presence.

Caitlyn,
I can't explain what's been going on inside of my head, but please trust I'll sort it out and come home to you. I love you, very much.
-L

He placed his cell phone and wallet on the counter, and knowing his family was asleep upstairs and blissfully unaware, Lloyd Darrow left.

Text Caitlyn: Thank you for the invite, I'm in town, done with this past job and dinner sounds great. As far as help goes, probably but I have no idea where he is....nor if he's even alive or with nother....groan. Is it too much to ask to be happy?

Text to: Silly Orange Juice Loving Lady
From: Cold as ****e female pretending to be married.......
He's not coming back, it's been six months and he's not coming back is he? WTF I do to him to deserve? Is no .....this is not good! What should do'en .......what should I do now?

Something had changed within Lloyd. The further he succumbed to the will of his wolf, the more personality he gained. It was as if the more he lost himself, the more he gained. It was not an immediate change, but the progress showed. Lloyd was.. Different.

"Cait?" He wandered into the living room, a broad smile on his mustachioed face. A smile, sincere and completely unlike him. "How's my little one doing?" He would plop down beside her, a hand resting on her midsection. That Lloyd was excited about this child would be another surprise. "Boy or girl, do you think? I wouldn't mind either."

He then leaned in, a kiss placed against her brow. "What would you like to do this Wednesday? A nice dinner, I think. Call a sitter, and all that."

In the practical sense, Lloyd is incapable of 'freaking out'. Nothing about his emotional intelligence is normal, so it only stands to reason that he not elicit the responses Caitlyn expects from her husband. Instead, he allows her the physical comfort of holding him close, and in turn tucks her into the protection of his arms.

"Given the difficulty with your inner-beast, and Rigsby.. We should air on the side of caution with this pregnancy. The last thing I want is you hurt or disappointed in any fashion." He sucks in a shallow breath, his pulse picking up a more rapid beat.

Despite the dread, a genuine sort of happiness filled him. Lloyd loved being a father, the strange dichotomy of the lifestyle they provide keeps him tethered to humanity (even if only by threads at times). "Are you happy about this?" It's a soft question, due trepidation and hesitation in his voice.

While vulnerability is not a suit he wears well, he does afford the effort of complete honesty with his wife.

Lloyd watched in his normal, expressionless manner as she revealed her truth to him, leaving him, naturally, to supply her with a response that would assure her that he was very much not angry. He loved his wife, there could be no assuaging him from such affections. However, to say he was expecting such an admission would be a lie. Lloyd made plans. He preferred control, needed it, really. They had agreed to wait, yet biology had seen fit to throw a cog in his otherwise finely tuned machine.

He had delayed all plans to have children of his own for many reasons. First and foremost, he loved Noah and Rigsby, and they were as much his children as any born of his flesh. Which then led to the prospect of having a child of his own, and all of the possible horrors that promised. He was a monster - no testament to humanity existed in his body. He was malicious, cruel, and remorseless. A killer.

He didn't want children of his 'own', for that very reason. He saw what the beast had inflicted on himself and his two siblings, as well as Jane's daughter. He couldn't bring himself to consider what a beast of his own design would inflict. Still, he chose to mask his own unbridled terror, arms reaching over to envelope Caitlyn in the security of his love.

"I could never be angry with you, Caitlyn. A child can only be a good thing, and you and I are good partners." But he was certain this child could only be a very, very bad thing.

Possessing an inordinate ability to sense when his wife is keeping something from him, Lloyd is prepared with an arsenal of orange related products - prepared to seduce the truth out of her with food and drink if necessary. "Hello, darling." He offers that disarming and charming grin of his, a manufactured smile by the definition of it.

He's trained himself to exhibit emotion. It's not that the man doesn't understand happiness and contentment, he's simply incapable of a genuine display of it. "So, what's the news?" He leans in her direction, a kiss placed squarely on her forehead. He stays within arms length, allowing his superior size to influence her into being forthwith with her delivery.

Jace appears in the vicinity of wherever Caitlyn is. He is dressed head to toe in a sharp black suit. His face is set into hard lines. Blue eyes are cold as ice. The jovial air about him is notably missing. This is not typical Jace.

The man is angry, but composed.

“Caitlyn.” He clasps his hands behind his back. “I hope you’re well. I’d stay and chat but need to get back to my wife. Onto business… I know how important family is to you, so I thought you would like to know your nephew was hunted yesterday.” The German accent leaks out, a telltale sign of his upset. Atom isn’t his son, he’s Sarah’s, but he cares for Atom, and he’s failed them both.

“Two other members were hunted. Requiem is no more.” He reaches into his jacket breast pocket and produces a cell phone, which he hands to Caitlyn. It contains information straight from his account on who did it, and confirmation of Atom’s, and Requiem’s, fall.

Lloyd was quick to return home. The man would always be at his wife's beck and call, especially is something seemed.. off. He wanders into the kitchen, having come bearing gifts of fresh oranges and squeezed juice, extra pulp. He pours a glass, knowing Caitlyn will comically appear soon after.

"We're not going to discuss it. Not like this." He gestures towards Rigsby, held captive in his other arm. He and Noah both were still far too impressionable. "It's not a 'no', just a 'not now'." He knits his brow, finding himself growing perplexed at her paranoia. So, he stands up, careful not to bump into the clutter of the closet with Rigsby in hand.

His free hand reaches down in offering to Caitlyn. "I'll solve that right now. There's no use wallowing in a closet, Cait. Let's go get some fresh air, alright?"

The man keeps a comforting hold on her, breathing calm and even. The raggedness is in his own mind, which faces to find a cure for her anxiety. He doesn't know how to help her, or where to start. Because Lloyd Darrow is a killer for sport, and his conscience died long ago.

"No, Caitlyn. How I feel..." He wants to spare her the details. She doesn't deserve to have it weighed upon her mind. Not with everything else. "Sadness isn't something I'm accustomed to." It is as finite a reply as he can manage. And then his entire focus shifts.

"Later. I can't possibly leave you like this." Perhaps his calmness at her little, life-changing confession will speak volumes of his character. But Lloyd is unaffected. His loyalty, first and foremost, are to his wife. "If you're pregnant, you'll still be pregnant a few hours from now. Right?" It's a small joke, and he frowns at the delivery. He's never been one for cleverly placed humor.

There's a wariness to the gaze her projects at her, taking the time to lower himself to his hands and knees and crawl amongst the hanging clothes. He turns, back pressed against the same wall as hers. He lets out a quiet sigh, hands reaching over to take Rigsby and plop the child in his lap. He wraps one arm around the toddler's midsection, his free hand moving to gently thumb away her falling tears.

He's incapable of expressing his distress at her distraught status, as the man is always calm. Tempered. Unable to show, often, how he truly feels. There is a duality to his nature - man and beast. In many ways, that dual nature has been a battle, humanity sacrificed time and time again. However, none of this prevents his ability to be tender with his wife, and to comfort her as she grieves a necessary action.

Lloyd leans over, pressing a chaste kiss against one of her rosy cheeks, verdant eyes measuring hers. "You're a leader, Caitlyn. And you did what you felt was right. He may have been a child, but he took the gold robes upon himself. No one asked him to."

He watches his tone, attempting to balance reason, and the fact that he sees no fault in a death, cause or no. "You have me, no matter what you do. I am your partner, and I will be your shield and your comfort in all things. Whatever you need, you know I will be here." It's a half-truth. Lloyd knows he often isn't around when she needs him. It's his greatest failure, but at least he keeps himself in check. "Just tell me what you need, and I'll make sure you have it."

"What the f*ck is wrong with you? Jesus H, is this what I have to deal with now? F*cking idiot mortals on this god forsaken hell pit of a globe?" He's pretty much talking to himself now. "I GET IT..." and now he's talking to the sky. "YOU WIN! I'M SORRY I CALLED YOU AN AR$EHOLE!" for emphasis, Nate shakes the bundle of shirt in his hand at the clouds before shoving it back on. "LET ME COME HOME!"

It's a slow process once he enters the house, stowing away his wallet and keys in places he would remember - hanging his coat on just the right hanger - checking to see that everything in the house was just as he left it. In this one aspect of his life, Lloyd commands control. The house is his domain, and his obsessive, compulsive nature demands order. It's a difficult ticket to cash when married to Caitlyn Noire, but it seems she hasn't wandered far in the past few days.

There's the obvious ring of a glass of orange juice on the counter - dishes from the boys dinner in the sink. But other than that, the house is calm, orderly and quiet. Too quiet, if he's thinking of it.

He ascends the staircase, stepping quietly down on the hall in stocking feet until he reaches their room. Catching the scent of Caitlyn and the boys, he quietly pries open the door and kneels down. "And what, may I ask, are we hiding from?"

Nate reaches to remove the cigarette from between his teeth. It's hand-rolled, yellowing and somewhat ominously scented. He flicks it to the side before making a show of peeling off his shirt, his hair left in complete shambles as he reaches out, smirks and drops it at the strangers feet.

"Your friend?" Elis wiggles enough to unbury his face from her hair, spitting out a few stray strands as they attach themselves to his tongue.

"I don't know how good a friend I can be..." he admits as their tight proximity brings the 'thump thump thump' of her jugular ever closer to his newly 'off the wagon' lips. Still, he loosens himself enough to wrap his arms about her waist and shrugs.

Practising his sleight of hand, Elis slips his wallet from the inside of his jacket into the front of his jeans, deep into his underwear. Convinced to its security within his, ahem, nether regions, he holds out his arms and wiggles his fingers.

She's almost gone deaf, honestly, when she picks up the phone and brings it to her ear. Camille is always excited to hear from Cait, so of course she'd worn a grin from ear to ear. But now, with the high pitched shrieking, Cami senses that something is, well... off. Obviously..

"Cait? CAAAAAAAAAIT!" She has to scream in order to garner her friends attention. "What the fvck are you on about!?"

All the text meant, simply, was that he was working from home. Still, his very poor sleuth of a wife tracks him down, not that his his heightened sense hadn't already detected her. He set the documents previously in his hands aside just as she collided with him, eliciting a solid 'oof' from his lips. "Hello, darling." He would reply, his tone and mood always steady and calm. Almost unemotional. "I can certainly do my best if you want brownies. If all else fails, we can eat the batter."

"Watch me do it? No Caitlyn. That's.. I'm not going to do that. You don't want to see it. I can promise you that." His grip on her momentarily tightened, his own shame causing his muscles to tense up. Verdant eyes shut tightly once again. He knew honesty was the only solution, now. "If I left, Caitlyn, because I ever thought myself capable of hurting our family.. It's doubtful I'd return." The words were terse are they forced themselves from his lips.

"Jameson knew, I presume he was the only one outside of my family. Elouise assured me all the files were destroyed before she escaped, but I can't trust a promise from her." Once again, as he gradually calmed down, his eyes reopened to look upon Caitlyn, head shaking gently.

"The drive within me.. It's linked to my lycanthropy. The beast dominates my conscious, every so often. It's a powerful force, too powerful to ignore. And if I ignore it long enough.. Scary things start to happen."

He wanted to laugh, but he felt it inappropriate, given the topic of conversation. "It's not so cut and dry, darling. I hunt only those who are truly despicable. Do you understand? You're not even close. You and the boys are a better testament for humanity than anyone else I know. You, Caitlyn, are nothing like the people I kill." His words seemed oddly romantic, because, for Lloyd, they were. However absolutely absurd that sounded.

"You, and Noah, and Rigsby, you will never be harmed by me. And if I ever felt I was a danger to the three of you, I would leave." His throat clenched at the very thought, but it needed to be said. He'd come to the edge so many times, always in a deadlock with his beast that suicide often seemed the best route out. There was a time he had hoped Doctor Orlav would have been able to treat him, but those days were long gone. Moscow had felt like his last hope.

"Jameson Orlav, before whatever mess he got himself into, brought me into The Order for very specific reasons. It had nothing to do with the legal work I performed, Cait. It had everything to do with my genetic make-up. To distinguish man from beast, and potentially cure my lycanthropy." He sucked in a calming breath, leaning into Caitlyn's touch.

"My love for you and the boys has always been sincere. I'm capable of many things, but pretending to love you any less than I do just isnt possible." Lloyd's eyes finally opened, a pang in his chest nearly winding him as he watched her process. "I know I should have been honest with you. But how could I have been? You started all of this, and I was too afraid to ruin it." He drew in a shallow breath, his inner-beast commanding violence, action. It wanted blood. But Lloyd would satiate its eternal hunger.

"I hunt people who murder others.. Who rape, and abuse. People not worthy of decent society." He understood the hypocrisy. He knew he was just as unfit. But he had forced himself to make his public life decent. He wanted to be the man that Caitlyn deserved, and selfishly, knowing he wasn't, he hid his true nature. "You have to understand, I would never hurt you or the boys. The three of you are my world. What keeps me sane."

Knowing he had no right, but insisting anyway, he reached out, bloodied palm attempting to grasp at her wrist. "I love you, and I always have. And when I thought you were happy with someone else, I stepped aside, because I knew I was never worthy of this sort of comfort. I'm sorry, Caitlyn. And I'll go if you ask."

"Abandon my family? You always know when I leave, and I always come back. Would you prefer something happen? Prefer I hurt you? Or the boys? It's a delicate balance within this body. You understand your own beast, the way I know mine." Lloyd recoils as she steps closer, his skin hot to the touch. "Jane knows the rules." His frustration, his own insecurities and fears of her presence were emotions she was still ignorant to. He was an excellent fabricator, after all. He had kept the ruse up the entire length of their relationship. But, perhaps after Rouen, something in Lloyd had snapped. His last shred of decency had died with Rena Chaussepied.

"You shouldn't want a child with me." He replied in an even tone,nails digging so deeply into his palms they nicked and drew blood. "We're all the same. My father, Jane, Freddie, all of us. Margaret, no doubt, will grow up to be just like her mother, and there's nothing I can do to help her. There's no guiding this. There isn't any fixing the breed that we are." Bile rose in his throat, but he fought it back down as he finally looked upon her, a deep shame clouding his eyes.

"What if I told you I was a killer? And that I enjoyed it? That's what's key. I like it. And I'm never going to stop. If I don't feed the beast, you can't even pretend to imagine what will happen." Lloyd's eyes squeezed shut, breath shallow, haphazard. "This is me. And I'm never going to change. But when I'm here, I'm present, and I'm with you and the boys, and it's safe. And I only kill people who deserve it." Mostly. Unless innocent people got in the way.

"Good Christ, Caitlyn. What do you want from me? I didn't create Jane. I try, actively, every waking minute, to make sure I don't lose the parts of me that you love. It's easy to live like Jane does. It's a very simple choice. I can't apologize enough, but her being my kin is out of my control. I'm sorry, Caitlyn, truly. I know that I disappear. But you wouldn't love me if you knew half of what I am." He could feel the dam starting to crack under the pressure of her investigation. He wanted to break, to flood her with the truth of his life. But he couldn't. Selfishly, he wouldn't sacrifice her.

"I don't know what sort of man you expect me to be. But I'm not Dane, or Drake. I'm not going to disappear without a trace. What else do I have to do to prove I'm committed to you? Do you want a child, Caitlyn? Do you want me to erect a goddamn statue in your honor? Tell me what you want from me, so I can stop playing catch-up for once."

"Do you actually think that of me?" He inquired, visibly offended as he took his phone and drew back from her. He can feel the angry heat of his own beast rearing its ugly head. "I don't know what the magic words are, to finally drill into your mind that I'm not going anywhere, but I seem to be missing them. I can't have this fight with you, Caitlyn." His hands find his car keys which had been set aside on the counter in between them.

"I'm not having an affair, physically, emotionally, or in any other possible sense of the term. I have no interest in anyone but you. But this isn't my fight anymore, Cait. I told you, and you don't trust me. And, believe me. I understand how incensed I'd be if some other man sent me a racy picture of you. But I didn't delete a single email or text message. It's all there, whether or not you believe me is your problem. When you can get a level head about this, we can discuss it as the married couple that used to trust one another. I have enough to deal with when it comes to Jane. I don't need to come home and perpetually be on the defense with you as well." The man stood back, breath heavy with the frustration of his tone.

"I'll take the boys out for a few hours. When you want to have a sensible conversation, understanding that I do, in fact, love you, you can call me."

The man reached for her phone, verdant eyes squinted in frustration as he read over the email. "Honestly, darling, I don't know what to tell you. She and I were friends, if that. I can give you my phone, if you honestly don't believe me." And, in an act of total transparency, he did indeed slide his phone across the counter towards her.

"She pressed her luck with Jameson Orlav, too. Perhaps she has a thing for married men. I don't know her intentions, Caitlyn, because I know mine. I have zero interest in any other women. Period. Would you like me to speak with her? I'm happy to inform her just how incredibly inappropriate such an email is."

Lloyd didn't bother to reply. Instead, he grabbed his keys and left the office without further hesitation. He wasn't going to have that conversation over text. It left so much to be desired in terms of explanation. And truthfully, Lloyd didn't have one. How on earth had the woman gotten a picture of him shirtless? He wasn't sure.

So, after biding a patient ride home, Lloyd entered the house quietly. And, following the scent of burnt popcorn, discovered Caitlyn in the kitchen. "Ella is a friend, to put it politely. As for the picture, I have no explanation. I've never knowingly been shirtless in front of her. We worked in The Order together, and that's and the limit of our personal and professional relationship. Okay?"

"He isn't coming, because he doesn't know Jane is here." He emphasized, brow raised to implore the hint. "No one does. And I want to keep it that way. I don't know what sort of trouble Jane is it, but it doesn't need to go further than Arcadia." He let out a short sigh, deflating as her hands overtook his.

"I think it's a conversation better had for when the sun is in the sky. Don't you?" He obliged, happy to lead her towards much needed rest. "I won't let Jane disrupt anything else. She's going to behave, or she isn't allowed to stay. She knows the rules."

"Freddie is not joining." He was the first to admit, with both siblings in town, the pack mentality was almost impossible to resist. Lloyd Darrow became an entirely difference person when surrounded by his family. Hedonism, both in human and wolf form, became the prime mode of operation. It was entirely unlike his normal behavior.

Of course, it was a side to him he never wished Caitlyn or the boys to be exposed to. "Wishful thinking. I raised Margaret for three years. Jane didn't even call on her birthday." He replied with a bite to his tone, hands wringing together in muted frustration. "It's loyalty that leaves me cleaning up her messes. The image of the family. That's all that truly matters, at the end of the day."

"I would never allow her to harm the boys. She isn't allowed near them. I can't tell if she's still using, or not. But you know my rule. Why do you think Margaret stays with my parents? Jane is a loose cannon. She always has been. It's in her nature." Lloyd, of all people, hated making excuses for his kin's conduct. However, he of all people understood the particular breed of lycanthrope that Jane was. They shared DNA, after all. He sympathized with the brutal, sociopathic nature she too struggled to keep at bay.

Though it seemed with time, her sense of morality had faded. Lloyd's.. struggled. It depended on the scenario. "You don't need to be kind to her. You don't have to like her. That will never be a requirement." He hooked an arm around her waist, drawing her nearer to his person.

"As for Hitler.. perhaps it's best if I let the documentary educate you, alright? We'll watch it tomorrow over a bottle or two of wine."

"Jane isn't allowed in the house. I wouldn't expose you to that much of her." He replied, reluctance in his tone. "She's my sister, Caitlyn. I don't know what you'd prefer I do, but I can't leave her on the street. For her to come crawling for help.. I can only presume it's serious."

He took a step back, a hand cast idly at the television. "No Desperate Housewives. Just a bit of the History Network. Something about Hitler. Reminded me of Mrs. Orlav." He offered a quick-witted grin, feet carrying him to collect her luggage and set it upright.

There was an air of trepidation in his actions. A quiet, apologetic way, formerly fluid movements filled only with hesitation and reproach. "I have to take care of her. You understand that, don't you?"

"Careful, I just..." Lloyd watched as the suitcase slid across the floor. ".. waxed that. Hello." The man smiled, sliding over in his house slippers to plant an affirming kiss on her forehead. "Missed you." He would murmur in his gentle and reserved manner, expression as unassuming as it usually was.

He would lean in, another kiss being given to Rigsby this time, while his hand ruffled the hair atop Noah's head. "Happy to have you all back home. It was a lonely few days."

Cait
You didn't tell me that. Why wouldn't you mention that to me?
She's not going to further be a problem. I don't know what's wrong this time, Cait, but Jane doesn't ask for my help often. I have to.

Text: Caitlyn
Hey! Long time no see, its Lucius. The guy you went to pizza with the kids a couple of months back. I hear you moved into London and started a sanctuary. That is great to hear, I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. London is a great city.

Jace skips toward his wifey, whistling off tune and without a care in the world. He likes to be spontaneous 99.9% of the time because it throws most people off. He also like pouncing his blonde sociopath of a mate equally.

She's wearing a hat today. Unusual but not unheard of.

Grinning to himself, Jace wraps one arm around her waist and one around her shoulders, dipping her back, movie style. "Hello wifey," he waggles his brows and gives her a good ol' smooch.

Then freezes.

He pulls back and looks at her. Wisps of red hair peek out from under the hat. "NOT WIFEY."

In a panic, he nearly drops Cait, but recovers with admirable grace, and brings her back upright. He smooths the fabric of her clothing over her shoulders. "Say... let's keep this between us. I'd like to keep my biscuits. It's been a while... have breakfast with me? Extra big glass of OJ, my treat."

*squints*The lesbians are our friends. Camille is your friend. Hell, I don't care if Elouise Orlav is your friend. That seems like plenty of friends to me.
*folds arms*Single men only want one thing. And for whatever reason, they're all good looking around here.

-tiptoes up behind-
-spooks-
CAITLYNFRANCISDARROW!
-beams-
I probably hired Lloyd to be our paper pusher. He's now officially on the payroll, which means you can boss him around and he can't sass you.
Happy un-birthday!

He frowns, both of his arms moving to close around her midsection and hold her close against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, brow knitting as he considers what words will ease her worries. "Life offers no promises. You and I both know that. But I know you aren't going anywhere, anytime soon. After all, my plans never fail." He wears a teasing grin. "After all, I planned to have you, to marry you, and so far, everything has gone as planned. So don't dwell, darling. Just focus on what you can effect right now."

The initial panic subsides. But he can't help but share in the disappointment she also failed to express. As she starts to separate from him, he reached out a hand, fingers closing gently around her wrist to draw her near once more. "Cait," He clears his throat, verdant eyes earnest. "Are you okay, love? It's okay to be upset. You can talk to me." He feels lost, like an abandoned puppy. Feelings simply weren't his forte. "Someday. Just not today, mm?"

"Hey! Hi. Hey." He narrows his eyes, fingers curling to hold his hips. He appears more calm than his texts let on. Perhaps he has had some time to think. Lloyd, personally, is always calm in person. Cait would know the man rarely shows any emotion at all. "So? He stands from the couch, stepping carefully over towards her, as if she is fine china and he, a bull. "What's the verdict?"

It was a surprisingly quiet Tuesday evening in the Darrow house, so quiet, in fact, Lloyd worried his family was not home. Pulling his key from the lock, he sets his bag aside in the foyer before venturing further in. “Caitlyn?” He calls out, almost immediately greeted thereafter with two exuberant dogs. So she must be home, then. “Cait?” He reattempts, kicking his shoes off and continuing the rest of the way in stocking feet.

“Cait? Boys? I’m home.” It’s a more lackluster declaration this time, as he’s not entirely sure, even with the presence of the dogs, that any human is listening. With a shrug, he shuffles into the living room, flopping onto the sofa with ease.

Lucius waited for her response for that long @ss minute of her staring blankly. There was something very off about that woman but nothing that really disturbed him like others would. "Ahhh...." He nodded when she finally spoke and gave her answer. It made more sense now what she meant. "That is fine with me. We can bring them food too."

Lucius saw a small brunette he recognized from a couple of months back just walking normally about her day. He decided to approuch her behind her and just like that... Lucius Dalca just stole $110.00 from you!

Quickly he turned around before she noticed but it was too late. ****! There goes Olive Garden tonight. "So..... Dinners on you?"

"I love you best of them all, Caitlyn Darrow." He leans over, pressing an affectionate kiss to her forehead as his fingers sift through her hair, pulling her in against his chest. "If you need me, then just text me. I may not be prompt.. But I will be here for you, always."

"Trust me when I say she is single only in technicality. And for the record, I would never betray you. I was swamped with contract negotiations all day, and I stepped away for a few slices of sub-par pizza with a crew-mate. Don't be dramatic, Caitlyn. I love you.." His brow knits together, perplexed that his wife had extended so little trust and understanding towards him. He was certain he had proven time and time again, he was nothing like the men she had wasted her time with before. His loyalty could never possibly be questioned.

"A few weeks. I'll be with Freddy and Jane.. I'll be fine. I always come back, don't I?"

Strolling over, Lloyd sifts through the tufts of Noah's unruly hair, stooping over to kiss him on the head and murmur a greeting before he toddles away. Left to face his wife, a smile struggled to form on his lips. "I wasn't on a date, Caitlyn. Do you truly think so little of me?" his arms fold, not in a defensive manner, but in a more casual sense. After all, her husband is perfectly calm in that moment, as he often is.

"You remember what we discussed, some months ago. When the itch to roam free returns. I believe it's time I take a step away, and return to my pack." It wasn't a threat, or an unkind or unloving gesture. It was simply an understanding between the pair. Lloyd was beginning to lose his touch, and they had both agreed should that come to pass, he would take the time he needed to regain his humanity.

-Comes hopping by in a bunny suit with an orange tabby cat sidekick in his basket--hands his Auntie a basket full of oranges, chocolates, orange juice and stuffed rabbit-"Happy Easter!-Hops away to his next victim-

You're my boss, so I'm not going to tell you you can't do anything, but I would strongly advise against stealing someone else's child. Imagine if I took Noah and Rigsby and never gave them back?
*folds arms across chest*
Lloyd isn't going to divorce you, unless of course you kidnap this baby. That may be a deal-breaker.

*blinks rapidly*Relax. I will return this strange baby. I do not believe your husband will divorce you, he seems like a very kind, understanding man. Their bags are packed, they've been fed lunch, and they've even had a nap.You have nothing to worry about.
*silently vows never to have children*

Ignore my mother, you're gorgeous just the way you are. I won't have time to stop at home and change before I drop the boys off. Can you grab a polo for me? Something in blue. I know you're going to bring an orange one, but I'm asking for blue.

-mock gasp-Mrs. Darrow, you hide money from your own husband?!-kisses cheek-It's a secret, damn it. I don't want you whispering it in your sleep, or my parents might overhear. And we are not going on another bloody double date.

-shifty eyes-Shh. It's a secret. Jane said I couldn't tell anyone.
But I had to tell my wife!
-may smell like weed-She said if I give her 10,000 dollars, she'll make sure the baby is okay. Isn't that so nice of her?

I disagree. You are the best Darrow I know. And you chose to be one, you insane woman.
-playfully bats nose-Yes to the Wednesdays. And I wouldn't bother wasting the orange juice on them. The judgment is how they show they care, I think.

-intense stare-
-scoffs-No, Cait. My parents aren't big drinkers. They will keep the house clean, and watch the children, and walk the dogs, and spoil you. And then they will judge me, because I am the worst out of that entire group.

We won't tell her.
-grins-She's still going to try to kidnap them over Easter. Did I mention that my parents are coming for Easter? And that my siblings never booked return flights?
*deep breaths*AlsoIloveyou.

-tsk's-We'll have to make it slightly dumb, so the others do not get jealous. But they already are of the other two Darrow children. Noah and Rigsby are redeemable step-children.
-firm nod-Certainly khaki worthy!

The air chilled her skin as she made her way to the doorstep of someone she once knew. Digging into her pocket she pulled out an envelope with nothing on it but a note containing inside "I am back....". She shoved it into the door frame and door before turning around and disappearing back from where she came.

I love you, too. Sometimes.
-blinks-Jane may be a horrible human being, but she wouldn't abandon the children. And if she does, Freddy's there. Unless he leaves them too. Oh Christ. The children are unsupervised.

I can promise you with a fair amount of certainty I will never willingly go out with the two of them. And neither will you.
-clears throat-Andyesthey'llbestayingherepleasedon'tdivorceme.
-deep breathing-

-glowers-
-still moody-Oh, yes, you mean the lovely note that said 'Suck it, b*tch' and a lewd drawing? I remember it well. I believe I hung it on the fridge next to Noah's drawings.
-relents, hugs-Freddy gets in tomorrow. I think we'd best draw up the wills now.

Come on, then! I'm assuming Claire will just keep them until we remember to pick them up. She's rather capable seeming. Yes to dessert before dinner. Ice cream, though, or orange sorbet? No, you may not have both. You get cranky when you have too much sugar.

Sort of. I got caught in traffic on my way home from work, so I drank it in the taxi. I'll just use Postmates to go get more.
-scoops up-In the mean time, we can go look-up child psychiatrists for our future, future horrible child, and then regular psychiatrists for you and I!

-pauses-Or, ten years, maybe. So I have time to prepare. Or die. Whichever happens first.
-pokes cheek-For the record, I'm happy with the the boys, and the dogs, and you. I don't need a prostitute daughter, if that isn't the way things go. I'll still buy you orange juice and let you spoil The Bachelor for me.

-panics-NO. No new babies. ... Unless you're pregnant? Are you? I don't believe you.
-sniffs-I guess you're not. At any rate, planning is a good thing. So we'll wait. Especially if this potential new child is a spawn of Satan himself, the boys need to be old enough to fend for their own in foster care once we're murdered.

Now I don't know which I'd prefer.
-scoffs-Absolutely not. Clark is a horrible name, for a horrible dog. Clearly, a name like Sparky or Fido would be more appropriate.
-toothy grin-We have plenty of time to figure things out. Unless you're pregnant, and you just lied. ... Are you a liar?!

-grabs at-
-squints-You're an amazing mother. And she won't be a bully, because I'll kick her ass first. See? We'll be great parents to a little girl!
-suddenly horrified-What if it's another boy? Can we even handle that?

-stops dry heaving-
-looks at-You're not? Oh.
-scratches cheek-Maybe, yeah. You mean, like... Half mine, half yours. A little Darrow?
-definitely not freaking out-What if I'm worse with a girl? What if she ends up a stripper? Or a prostitute? It will be my fault!

-glowers-No. The other thing.
-hands on hips-
-intimidating stare-That little tid-bit about a daughter. Well. A child. Care to elaborate? ... Are you pregnant? Is this a test?!
-starts to hyperventilate-

I'm bringing home pizza for dinner. And before you ask, yes, I got orange slices instead of pineapple. And while I am disturbed by how successful the fan girls are at stalking us, some of the pictures and videos are nice.
[VID]

Why would I buy products from child soldiers? Is this not a moral dilemma for you?
*shakes head*
I'll give them a try, but only to say I did so.
*ponders*
Oranges? Who doesn't like oranges? They're like biting into a smile.

-panics-
-runs back into the room with a bucket of Legos-I feel like he would most certainly suffer psychological damage from this show. And he doesn't need any more excuses for screwing up my stuff. Did you know he cut all of my ties?
-hands on hips-Little bugger. He's lucky he's cute, or I'd string him up by his toes.

-blanches-We can't give up date night. It's the only fun I get to have! Corinne is my only motivation to keep living.
-clears throat-Speaking of date night, how do pizza rolls sound for dinner tomorrow? I've got a bottle of red and about four backed up episodes of Grey's Anatomy we need to pretend to enjoy.

-knits brow-Yes, of course. We're married. You're my partner. I'm going to shower you in stuffed bears and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, approximately one hundred red roses, and a candlelit dinner consisting only of recipes that call for oranges.

Yes, cookies. Obviously. What else is there?
I don't know if I'd phrase it as 'easier', per se, but she is uniquely qualified as the world's calmest child. And best looking. She's going to cure cancer, if you didn't already know.

-squints at-No. We'll get the third dog. Because I wish to be known as the pragmatic, wonderful husband that I am. And I'll even let you name her. But if it's one of those tiny, yappy dogs, I'm taking it back.

You're still not making sweetening this deal at all. At least pretend to offer you'll help take care of it.
-heavy laden sigh-We can get another dog, if you really feel it is a necessary addition. What's one more dog?

Yes, right before I threw it out. Rigsby the puppy obliterated it. You probably shouldn't leave those toys laying around.
-holds up a cautionary hand-Now, before you get hysterical, there's a new one in the kitchen.

...Perhaps. Who knows? They do send great gifts though. And, no I don't keep them in the basement. Relax.
-sets down box-
-grips shoulders-Do you need a snickers? You turn into a jealous orange when you're hungry.

Why would I send you a finger for myself when I could just go get several on my own, no distress necessary?
-knits brow-Christ, Cait. It was a joke. And Ms. Roberts was only a prostitute in a movie. And I only eat the prostitutes without the heart of gold.

It appears as though someone simply though to send me a snack with yours! We're already getting couple-presents. Isn't that sweet?
-scoffs-Rigsby wouldn't have eaten it. He prefers prostitute toes, anyway.

Because he's smart enough to recognize handsome when he sees it. Obviously. And because we smoke cigars together.
-nudges-Wait. So all I have to is mildly complain to get food and entertainment? Why didn't I realize this sooner?

-narrows eyes-Of all the possible wedding presents, you want orange trees? I suppose we could acquire a few, but we'd have to keep them in the right climate. Maybe visit them for Christmas. That's what Americans do, right? They go to Florida in the winter?

-lowers voice-I don't think any of these people are smart enough to know whether or not something is legally binding. I'm just going to make things up and see how far along I get.
-leans over-Of course you can watch me work. My wife is always welcome
-chastely kisses-I don't believe so. She's a horrible influence, from what I've been told.

-heavy laden sigh-I give up. I wasn't meant to be a funny person.
But, to reiterate, no, I do not sleep with the fangirls.
-pats head-Unless you count yourself as one, and then I recant my previous statement.

Yes? And? They touch my butt too. And I touch your butt. The only person whose but doesn't touched is theirs.
-flicks nose-At least you've got a nice butt. It could be worse, they could be gossiping about your flab.
-pauses-That was a hypothetical scenario. You do not have flab.

Mm. Yes. And I do believe it's a fair exchange. Don't you?
-shoves all of the cookies in his mouth at once-
-takes an incredibly long time to chew and swallow-And I would be lost without you. Now! We need to catch up on The Bachelor. Come on.
-pats sofa cushion-

-is tackled-
-groans-Jesus. No. Too much love.
-crawls out from under, tucks one child under each arm-Clark will get over it. I missed you all too. Come on, I tried to make my room as comfortable as possible. I think you'll like the house I'm looking at. Lots of space to hide dead bodies.

Teleconferencing. Clark is going to hate Moscow. Come with the boys at your own convenience, and I'm sure I'll have everything sorted by then. I'll even look into the daycare, just for you. If not, we can always just lock the boys in a closet with some marmite and crackers. They'll live.

Jesus H. Why wasn't I informed of this sooner? This woman isn't allowed to watch the children. Or touch your butt. That's my job. We're filing for a restraining order. The Orlavs cannot be within 1000 feet of our asses.

Your message left me with more questions than answers. If you want to move to Moscow, we can certainly look for property. I think Doctor Orlav is more than capable of feeding himself. Send loads of pictures.

Stalking quietly into the room, Lloyd leans against the door-frame, arms folding across his chest. He directs a pointed gaze a her, verdant eyes rolling at the question. "Men's Wearhouse is an abomination. Wearhouse isn't even a damn word."

Socks keep his footsteps quiet as he strolls over, snatching the tabloid from her hands to give it a once-over. "His face isn't that weird. You're just comparing it to Rigsby's. And he's rather handsome. He gets it from me. Delusional, party of one.

Lloyd starts to type his response, before he realizes Caitlyn is just in the other room. Shutting his laptop, he ambles down the hall from his office, trots down the stairs, and falls down on the couch beside her.

With pitiful eyes, he shakes his head. "Sorry, Cait, no animals on these excursions. But, we could probably rent a puppy, or something...or dress the boys up?"

*blinks at phone*
Nephew???
To: Cait
From: Jack
Rigsby?? When the hell....Please tell me this is a joke. Or it's a dog. That doesn't sound like a baby name. That sounds like a dog name. You worry me, Cait.

-folds arms-For the moment. So, nine marriages was it?
And if Casey is yours, you've got a lot more explaining to do.
... Just promise the part about more babies isn't true. Everything else I can live with.
-snorts, strolls over-For the record, it isn't an autobiography. Tossers.

*lets her stew for awhile*
*Only slightly annoyed*
*but it's cool. He's cool. Defo not mad*
To: Cait
From: Jack
Gee. What a weird question, Cait. Every last drop of alcohol in my place was replaced with club soda. Don't worry! But, I will have to get you back some day :D

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "You don't have a problem. You've just had way to must exposure to Clark." Lloyd sinks back into the couch, a thoughtful expression on his face as he swirls the contents of his flute.

"Celebrating? Oh. Clark finally used the yard today!" He reaches over, flicking her nose. "That, and I baked cinnamon buns for dessert, and they're not at all burned."

-pats Noah's head-Just remember, Lloyd will always help you hide the bodies. Because I'm fantastic.
-clears throat-But your mother is right. Violence is only used when necessary. Like if you prefer someone's lunchtime snack to yours.

Mackenzie the jerk. She doesn't try to be. It just happens. She's been a bit out of her element, and frustrated. That comes across as mean, rude, and/or evil.

Honestly, she's just cranky. Very, very cranky. And moody. And, well. It's not been a good couple of weeks for the Irish femme.

But, with Caitlyn walking away, the best she can do at this point is catch the woman's eye and give her a knowing nod when the look is cast back in her direction. She gets it, all too well. And, just like Caitlyn, she too would protect what is hers. Kenz may be moody, but she is also loyal to a fault. "Ditto."

She must be insane. That's it. Cait absolutely has to have lost her goddamn mind.

Mackenzie stares at the woman, head tilting as icy blue eyes casually flicker up and down the woman's form, and back again. Yes. Lost her mind. But she has to play nice. That was part of the deal, right?

Ugh. No. Cannot. Can't.

"If by orange juice and hugs, you mean blood and-" bad Mackenzie!

Slowly, she leans in, giving the woman one of those awkward, uncomfortable, one armed hugs. "Thanks..."

Rigsby will behave, we have an understanding.
-reaches for hands-Because he's not going to ruin his mother's wedding, he's very well-behaved. Can we get married? Should I ask again tomorrow?
-nods, determined-I'm going to ask again tomorrow. Don't answer now.

-grins, kisses brow-You know you don't actually have to win me over. I'm going to do it regardless, but I have to keep a tough exterior.
-wide eyes-Asking my mother for baby khakis might alert her to the fact that there is a baby. Which may or may not have been mentioned in my latest email.

Don't worry, I'll take care of the dog.
You need to rest. And eat snacks and watch movies.
-quietly rocks Rigsby-And if you really win me over, I might consider getting you a McMuffin in the morning. But don't bet on it.

-slides by-
-singing to Rigsby-I'm Henry the eighth I am, Henry the eight I am I am...
I got married to the widow next door, she's been married seven times before!
-back tracks-I can't tell if he's laughing because he likes it or because I'm bad.

-blinks-Canada, then Australia.
-walks over, kisses brow-...we'll come back in however many years it takes for this cheeto puff to go away.
-sighs-We just can't live in England, because then it would be very easy for my mother to find us and make us wear khakis.

-tilts head-Which Lindsay? The one from Napa Valley or the one from London?
You don't sound like the latter. But who knows, they both faked accents for that movie.
-wide eyes-She's not really a twin, is she?

-girly scream-
-clears throat-I didn't tell Emerson to do anything. She said she'd prefer to marry you, so I suggested she go and make it a surety, then.
-pats cushion next to him-Now come here and relax.

The babysitter's husband's credit card? I don't have to pay him back, right?
-big sigh-We can go camping, so long as you promise not to eat anything that was not originally intended to be food in the first place.

I was informed recently you never tell a pregnant woman 'no'. So yes, Clark can have a new friend. Until he inevitably eats the puppy to prove his dominance.
-pats head-But no more puppies... or milkbones. We're training for a marathon here!

-pats head-I'll make the popcorn too. You just sit there and work on your calves. We're going to train for a marathon, and you can just push Rigsby in a stroller in front of you.
-pats stomach-
-whispers-He's going to be the fittest baby ever.

Lloyd reaches over, taking her hand in his. He lets out a soft laugh, watching as his thumb traces over the back of her hand. "Just don't touch anything in the fridge, ever. I'll label all the safe things from now on. That Kool-Aid is a serious trip."

"You don't need to be anything like anyone from Desperate Housewives. They're dysfunctional in a very different way. You're an least enjoyable."

“Oregano looking flakes in the orange juice…? Caitlyn, you know that’s --.” He cuts off, letting out a scoff and a sigh as he shakes his head in disapproval. He knew despite anything he said, no warnings over her favorite babysitter would be heard.

Lloyd swats her hand away, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to mother me, I survived. Barely. At any rate, I rather enjoyed my walk about. Besides the whole drugged, wilderness bit of it. And naturally, I missed your pancakes.” He lets out a sigh, leaning his head on her arm. “And you, maybe, just a bit. But that’s why I got you juice.”

Lloyd stumbles into the living room, disheveled, exhausted, but bearing two bottles of orange juice. He plops down beside Caitlyn, handing off one of the juices before he scratches his head -- coming up with a few leaves, which he promptly discards on the floor.

"I got up in the middle of the night for a drink, and could only find that weird purple Kool-Aid. I had some, and I woke up hours later on a park bench four miles from home." He clears his throat, unsealing the cap of his own drink and chugging some with obvious thirst.

"I would have gotten an Uber, but I didn't have my phone. So I bought some juice and walked back. There is something seriously wrong with the babysitter for leaving that were Noah can get it."

*picks up a tic tac and pops it in her mouth**blinks a few times**cants head and ponders* Maybe yes? Except without the hippos, the marbles or the fun.*offers her a chair to sit in* I will choose the Batman with the horns and pink unicorn, please. *squints* Why is he riding a unicorn...through the house.

*eyes widen at the word 'Batman'**grabs a cone to 'help' Caitlyn**noms the frozen dessert* Are they the plasters with his face or just the bat signal?*looks around at the quite humble apartment she's residing in* Um, see, funny story...my house was lit on fire and I had to move here.*shifty eyes* After the Hunger Games in Slovakia...

Alice died in the first episode, Cait.
-pauses, offers hand-I was dreaming about the beaches of Bermuda...pink sand, no Legos to step on. It was wonderful.
-squeezes hand-I also bought Noah a giant, stuffed giraffe. I saw it in a catalogue... I need an intervention.

-dragging trash bags behind him-
-grumbles under breath-Maybe I should leave you out with the cans.
-grins-
-glances back at-I'm not going to throw Noah out, I just bought him a new Lego set. I've invested!

-eye twitch-
-groan-Now I am.
-yawn-The Dragon's name was Snark. And he burned anyone who dare wake him from his slumber.
...same for the Prince. He would even go so far as to hang a princess if she dared to keep him up.
-nudges-
-sleepy mumble-No more questions. Just sleep.

Fine. But only one.
-leads to bed-Once upon a time, there was an English Prince. We’ll call him… Floyd.
-tucks in-Floyd was incredibly handsome, and dashing, and intelligent, and…
-clears throat-One day, he encountered a Princess, with beautiful red hair, and an eccentricity for a certain citrus fruit.
Prince Floyd inevitably won the Princess over with his many attributes, grand castle, valiant companion, and… no. That’s about it. Now, go to bed.

-arms full of arts and crafts supplies-I was told the best way to learn about Halloween was through this application called Pinterest.
... We're going to paint your stomach like a jack-o-lantern now.
-big smile-

“I said almost anything. Don’t get too adventurous.” He snorts derisively. “Clark is not family, Clark is a dog. He doesn’t get to eat at the dinner table, and he doesn’t get to be in the Christmas photos.” He reminds, before meeting Clark’s gaze, and he lets out a sigh. “… okay, so he’s family. But he’s still not getting in the damn picture.”

“We’ll find a good name. I promise.” He pats her hand, giving her a small smile. “… I’ll make sure you don’t read anything terrible… we can’t have you naming the baby Brad Pitt because you read a tabloid.”

Lloyd leans over, pressing his lips to her brow. “Time for bed for you, I think. Noah doesn’t need a zombie mother. And pregnant or not, I expect a full continental breakfast when I wake up. Four rations of bacon and all.” A quiet laugh escapes his lips, the smirk plastered to his features revealing his sarcasm. “Clark and I are going to get into some online gambling charges with your credit cards.”

He’s still rolling his eyes and shaking his head, a clear subscriber to propriety. “That is why I’m constantly relieved Clark is such a responsible chaperone.” He lets out a little sigh. “You can call me whatever you like. Like Clark, if you use the right intonation, I’ll answer to almost anything.”

“…but you can’t name the child after the dog. I’ll never let you live it down.”

“Isabelle? No, no. That simply won’t do.” He shakes his head for emphasis. “Rigsby is a great name!” Lloyd’s chest seems to puff back out in pride until he’s sucked into the confines of the blanket, he relents, a sigh escaping him as he leans into her.

A groan escapes his lips as she shakes his head. “Hunky Lloyd?! Not… ‘Intelligent’ or ‘Witty’? Am I just a piece of meat to you?!” His indignation appears to only be a front, as his grin stays plastered. “Isabelle is starting to seem more and more appealing…”

He deflates, letting out a disgruntled sigh. "No nicknames. Give it my middle name. I wouldn't mess with a chap named Rigsby. Right?" He gauges her reaction with clear defensiveness. "Or you can just preface Lloyd with 'Baby' for... the baby. And 'Handsome' for me. Unless we're both handsome, then we'll have to think a little harder..."

He scoffs. “Clark doesn’t need a pie. Ineed a pie. Many pies. Of all sorts of flavors. But we’ll start with cherry.” A challenging glare is shot to Clark, who responds with a low growl. Not a stupid dog, this one.

“Bernerd? Like… Bernie? Cait, that sounds like the kid who gets his lunch spit on. You’ve gotta pick a strong name.” He puffs his chest out. “Like Lloyd.” Lloyd nods with increasing eagerness and approval. “I’d be terrified of a kid named Lloyd.”

He perks up at bit, leaning in to press his nose to hers. "Yes, special dinner. Yes, pie. Is that even a question?" He cracks a smile, pecking the tip of her nose before he pulls back.

"All babies start out looking like prunes. We'll give it at least two weeks to shape up, or we'll just pass it off to someone else." Lloyd grins, shaking his head. "Madness is relative, you know. I may be mad, but I'm perfectly sane compared to most."

“Consider this a pre-intervention, intervention.” He quips amiably, before freezing, his smile dissipating some. “Shopping? Well, someone has to carry your bags. I’ll consider it.” He relents, another sigh escaping.

His gaze focuses ahead, mind wandering for a moment before orange juice is mentioned. He blinks, blue eyes focusing back to her with a jadedness. “I’m not quite apt enough to enjoy this heavenly nectar, presently. It might be a day or two before I have a taste for more than water and saltines.” He relents as she leans against him, readjusting so his arm would wrap around her shoulders.

The man emits a heavy sigh of defeat. "Shop wherever you like... just don't bring home any sympathy khakis. For me, or you." He stares down at her with an intimidating brow, but the smile he still wore certainly contradicts it. "And no artistically obtrusive frames. Just basic, plastic, and black. And we'll pop the glass out to prevent any further incidents."

"... I don't believe we get to choose what they run us out with, but I can certainly try and make a few requests. No promises. Angry mobs aren't really my forte." Lloyd takes a sip of his OJ, finding his tastebuds hadn't totally restored after the hunt. Instead he simply offers the glass over to the crazies red-head beside him. For once, totally happy to share.

His expression shifts, mockingly offended by the question. "Return policy? I'm a top of the line product, no defections. If anyone requires a return policy, it's me. I would have traded Clark in for a Labrador any day."

Her words register with him, and he tilts his head, looking at her questioningly. “…Do people like Ikea?” He shakes his head. “I’ll just shop online… or give you my card. You may shop anywhere you’d like for the furniture, but if you try to bring home outfits for Clark, we’ll be having a serious intervention.”

“Cute frame? Well if you liked it -- ” He’s cut off by her tirade of a confession, a smirk growing as she went. He shakes his head, scoffing in amusement. “Caitlyn, we really must work on your sidewalk skills. My neighbors already think I’m strange enough, without your stalking habits adding to it. We’re going to get run out of here with fire and pitchforks!”

Lloyd slithers out of the living room for a few moments, returning only once his hands were filled with two glasses of orange juice, a bag of chips dangling between his teeth. He passes off her glass, releasing the chips so they fall onto the couch, before he sits down after them – narrowly avoiding crushing them in the process. “And if you buy this furniture, you’ll be passing the point of no return. There will be absolutely no getting rid of Clark.” He clears his throat. “… or me. But that’s tertiary.”

“Nail polish…? Of course. You know… for Clark.” He looked about with shifty eyes before returning his sight to her, and then over to the dog for affirmation.

Clark, for all his interest, simply billowed out a sigh, an admission of defeat. “Ah, see? If he can deal with you and I, he can certainly handle Noah. So long as he doesn’t try to steal his oranges, which won’t be a problem, will it? The dog has more to fear with you.” He grins, reaching over to tousle the hair on Clark’s head, earning a whine of disapproval, but no action.

“You’ve spoiled this dog, you know. Now I can’t use him to fend off burglars, and we’ll never know if Jimmy’s stuck in the well… not that we have any wells around here, but it would be good to know!” Lloyd relinquished the fight, gaze lifting towards the ceiling momentarily. “… I’m afraid I don’t have an extra bed. All of those rooms are rather under-furnished. I suppose I could just go to… Ikea.” He let out an involuntary shiver at the name.

“And I’ll pick up a few extra picture frames while I’m there.” At the final comment he shot her a meaningful look. “Try not to bust anymore, yeah? We can’t have broken glass laying around all the time. People might begin to think this is actually a murder house.”

“Legos are dangerous, got it.” He nods, still unclear as to why they would then be allowable child’s play. He nods as she rambles on, noting every way in which he could entertain the boy. “Coloring? He’s not going to paint the walls with crayons, is he?” He looked around, feeling a pang of fear that the freshly painted wall would soon be destroyed with handprints and markers.

Did he really care? No, he supposed not. Walls could always be refinished. He looked to her then with a vague smile. “Holiday? You’re catching on. But, if that little girl gets on a flight, Jane will never take her back.”

“Or we could just give him Clark and let him run rampant. Every boy deserves a dog! There are a hundred and one books written about just that. I don’t believe Clark has ever actually dealt with a child… but I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Hide the matches? His eyes go wide, unsure now of what to expect with this child. Eagerness faded into terror. Would he be swinging from chandeliers next? ... It was a good thing there weren't any installed.

"I've never actually entertained a child... I suppose he doesn't have any knowledge of wine, then? We can't chat about foreign affairs..." He lets out a big sigh. This boy would hate him.

"No, not from Desperate Housewives, you ass. I have a niece, remember?" He flicks her nose, finally cracking a smile once more.

He rolls his eyes, a feigned glare projected her way. "You wound me, you know. I value my khakis far too much to stow bodies in there additionally." A quiet laugh follows, before he looks to her with noted surprise.

"Noah? I finally get to meet this chap?" Eagerness was not an emotion he expressed well, but it seemed as if he was. And then, a much deeper laugh follows at her next comment. "Good Lord. I think my mother would be on the next plane." He neatly tucked the idea of baby khakis away, saving it for later plotting. "I proclaim with great confidence I am the swiftest, most efficient diaper changer you shall ever meet. You're lucky to have me, really. It's not often I offer my services so freely."

Lloyd was teasing, naturally. There was a part of him that craved the busyness and comfort of family life, even if he would never admit it.

"We'll figure something out. We have to, don't we?" He lets out a quiet sigh, somber faced as he reached out a hand to rest at her midsection, though the blanket stood between them. "If I can protect an innocent life, I will." A smile grows as his gaze lifts up to meet hers.

"I suppose this will keep you from London or Bora Bora for a while, mm? All in good time. It's best to endure any Darrow in small doses."

He kept a smile as she spoke, far from one to judge, but it truth, it bothered him little. Until she expressed her pain, which he could understand just as well. Lycanthropy was often the destroyer of humanity, and hope was too weak an option and never a cure. The sway it held over him was profound, destructive, devastating. Lloyd allowed the threat of his affliction running rampant keep him from so much, that he felt a bit of anger swell within him at her anguish.

The man didn't know if he could help, if he could prevent in any way what happened. The call of the wolf levied strength over any human part of him every day, the thirst to run wild, to hunt, to kill. To know she struggled was a frustration he could not overcome. He himself had given a few years of his life to opiates, the drugs suppressing much of his will, but at the sacrifice of his human form as well. And that, of course, was no option for her.

"We can find a solution. There must be one, somewhere. I refuse to believe that... that you should have to sacrifice anything."

Lloyd returned the kiss without trepidation, but with noted surprise. After a short moment, he would draw back, tracing a stray hair from her face and tucking it neatly behind an ear. "I won't be going anywhere, Caitlyn. I promise." He takes a moment to readjust her blanket, folding her neatly into her former burrito'd state, the semblance of a smile on his lips.

"I believe you have something to tell me." His tone was matter-of-fact, but his expression read coaxing, understanding, even accepting. "And before you go blaming Clark, he did not give you up. It's just a bit... easy to tell." Was he calling her fat? He certainly hoped not.

Brains? He lets out a soft chuckle. “No, not hungry for brains. Maybe some potato crisps and a glass of orange juice.”

A terrible thing? His mind reeled, wondering what piteous activity she had gotten into in his absence. At her admission, he mocked brief horror, before giving her a gentle pat, his arm wrapping around her in comfort. “Don’t worry, I’ve plenty more where that came from. It was a beautifully kind gesture, though. And now there is a very fashion forward zombie thankful for it as well… if he knows any better.”

As she began to unfurl from the blanket, he released her, looking on in absolute horror. Crying, khakis, it was too much of an auditory and visual assault. “Caitlyn. Caitlyn.” He tugs on the blanket, helping her escape the mass of comforter. “Relax.” He places his hands on either side of her, meeting her gaze evenly.

“I’m not going anywhere. You missed me, didn’t you?” In truth, he appeared rather touched. Letting out a little sigh, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her brow. “Deep, calming breaths. You’re making the dog nervous.”

"Perfectly alive, Caitlyn." He lowers himself into the chair beside the two, accepting that Clarke look too comfortable, and more than that, too betrayed to be greeted. His eyes switched to the red-head, swallowing harshly. He was parched, hungry, but all of that seemed to fade with current company.

A laugh rumbled in his throat as he glanced towards the movie choice, and the broken frame. It was cut short, of course, as he recognized it was not wholly appropriate. "I should have left a note, or said something. I didn't mean to make you think I'd left."

The entire display left him with a pang of regret. This woman, his dog, all things he deemed important. And yet, the beast had taken control of him at his weakest point, and would now have to suffer the consequences. "You've certainly made yourself quite comfortable in my absence."

This was not the first time Lloyd had heeded the call of the wild. The beast, kept dormant since the full moon, ached for action, and the bloodlust curled like a vicious whip deep in his core. The safest thing to do was to escape New York City, keep his animosity reined in all much as he could.

Neither wolf or man was very certain of what he had done, or what had transpired in that nearly two-week gap. But sane again, he ventured back home from where he found himself, to a person he hoped had not given up on him just yet.

“I believe you have my dog.” A hallow voice, but the accent remained. He recalled a time when that had been a joke. When the two both seemed happier. Lloyd read from her demeanor that something was amiss, but he knew not what. “…and my khakis.”

He clears his throat, arms folding across his chest as he watched her with skeptical eyes. “Not moping on my account, I hope? We never set a date for our tax-reduction wedding, so I know I haven’t jilted you – yet.”

-gasp-
What?! Those are horrible names!
-pouts-
If I have fifteen more children, their names are gonna be Grenade, and Bullet, and Cannon, and Missile...
-taps chin-
Great names. I should definitely be a mom.

He can't quite help the way his head tilts to the side. In an apparent display of anger and frustration, it would appear that Caitlyn was absolutely fuming from her ocular orifices. Jameson found it kind of confusing.. And also extremely interesting. He wondered, inwardly, how exactly that worked...

"Your ridiculous oranges." The man begins, brows both raised curiously over his invasive stare. "While I may have assumed that you'd be able to play along without tattling to miss pointy finger... You could have just asked if you wanted them back that badly."

A decisive frown pulls down at the corners of his mouth, twisting his face into an expression that was wild with bemusement.

"And then she starts spouting off about oranges, vitamin c and pregnancy. I thought to myself... Caitlyn? There's no way. I haven't heard a peep."

Now the frown seems to flip upside down. "Something you'd like to confirm or deny, maybe? Say, in exchange for the entire crop of your oranges?"

Jameson face contorts. Ever the grumpy Gus. The woman begins to flail around like one of those big, nylon monsters outside of a car dealership. Caitlyn screeches, and makes a big deal out of nothing. Women! (He'd have it printed on his gravestone).

"Caitlyn!" He snaps, hoping to draw her attention back to reality. Did he mean fat? No. But he's pretty convinced that everyone is conspiring sabotage against him.

"..What.." Jameson shakes his head, hands dropping from his hips as he takes a step forward. He's looking around, eyes darting as they often do when he's trying to be sure there were no unwelcomed parties privvy to their conversation. "Your friend Khloe paid me a visit."

The Doctor simply cannot help the eye roll that graced her name.

"But she said.. Well I didn't know... ANYWAY." Clearly unable to do words he instead points to her belly and eludes to the news that the girl had dropped on him.

Jameson's hands fall to his hips while a testy foot taps impatiently against the cold floor. Yes, the man appears to be channeling his inner southern housewife.. Its a thing that happens when your entire existence has been encompassed by women.
"You've got some 'splaining to do."

Hmmm Fia didn't really smell the feet. -or- she was too used to the smell of dirt for it to bother her. How bad could it be, really? Still she didn't want to lose a chance to bond with her new crew-mate.

Love to have your company! I'm not the best cook indoors, I'm a little better around a campfire. You *do* have fire extinguishers, yes?

Thank you for the sagely advice, I shall keep that in mind for future... interactions!

The juices doesnt actually "go" with the buttery popcorn still permeating her sharp senses but she gratefully washes it down anyways. She leans forward a bit curiously after looking around... "How will I know which one is..... Jameson?"

It was actually Lamesons idea to start the war. He said to me:
'Jameson, if you take all the oranges, you'll be the ruler of the kingdom.'+plus+, how can you master a fish taco without a spritz of citrus?!

There she is. Unsuspecting. Jameson has her in his sights, and he's hidden safely behind the confines of some unnamed inanimate object. What a sight he is, this fool. Let's paint a picture:

Camouflage. Lots of it, wrapped around him in various forms of fabric. It covers his pants and his long sleeved henley, and the matching bandana tied around an unfastidious excuse for a head of hair.

And yes. There's paint. Streaks of mud colored warpaint dragged across his mug by dirty fingers.

He means to start a war.

Jameson is strapped, literally, with two criss-crossed holsters which are secured across his torso, and his artillery is heavy.

Super soakers. The likes of which are of a phenomenal caliber.

"Well, well, well," He spits, dramatically. Increasingly over the top as he drones on, "Finally we meet." What the hell is he on about?

At his sides, his weapons are drawn, meaty fingers on each respective trigger and ready to fire at any given moment.

"T'was I who took your precious oranges, and it is I who shall reign supreme over the citric kingdom!!"

Damn, he's lost it.

Just then, Jameson fires, taking aim at one of Solitudes most feared generals. From his guns, a never ending stream of brightly colored orange juice pours, spraying in all directions. The man sways back and fourth, like a scene straight out of Scarface. He yells, an outpour of warcries billowing from his lungs while he 'shoots' up the place.

His first. First successful steal. The first time he had reached inside the pocket of an unsuspecting victim and hadn't been greeted with a mouse trap, or an angry lass with a pocket knife. Oh, and how sweet this victory felt.You were successful in stealing $959.00 from Caitlyn Noire.
Yes.. Almost a thousand dollars. He would be feasting on tacos for months to come.

"Ho-ly sh_t.Holy sh_t!
That's the most pizza I've ever seen in my life.."

Jameson is on that mound of pizza boxes almost immediately, grasping at the edges of card boarded bliss in order to alleviate Caitlyn of the heavy load........ And then he's going to devour every single slice, even if it kills him.

Pizza. Pizza. Two syllables that, when used together, created a word so melodic that a sirens song would pale in comparison. Jameson fights back at the urge to feel excited, stomach growling as soon as the beautiful word rolls off of the woman's tongue. But then, she laughs awkwardly, and what comes next is a sort of 'haha, just kidding' that deals a blow to his hunger pangs.
"You- What- There's no pizza?!"

Text to: Cait
Uhhhh...I have NO idea where he got that from. But, uh, tell him I say hookers is not what we use to describe women. Ever. Because, I've totally never used that term before in my life. Ever.*totally thinks that went over swimmingly*

"I'm super good with kids! I babysat a little boy once. He just loved matches! Yeah! Totally didn't see him for the rest of the night."
*scratches head*
"Or ever again, for that matter... But then again, I guess your house burning down would upset anyone, am I right?"
*innocent smile*

Sees the familiar face and grins as she approaches. "Long time no see boss. Good seeing you again...I believe I've something you'll enjoy..." Reaches into on of her jacket pockets and retrieves a flask, then offers it up. "It has oranges in it." Grins.

"I'd really like that actually. Perhaps we could set up a play date sometime and let our kids meet as well. My little Echo is almost 4 and doesn't have many kids even close to her age to play with." She offered Caitlyn a quick, but sincere, hug. "Let me know when you're free and we'll plan something out!"

As she stepped out of her apartment, she'd nearly fallen over the huge case that had been awaiting her. Jack! As she read the note, Julliet could barely contain herself. With great effort, Julliet pushed her large package into her living space before slamming the door closed behind her.

She was off to find Caitlyn.

Thankfully, she knew the girl well enough to know where to find her. Julliet nearly ran the entire way, but when she approached the house, she saw the orange lover outside. "CAIT!" She yelled as she came at Caitlyn with full running force and jumped on her, wrapping her limbs around the other woman's body, her heart racing with excitement, as she was sure Cait's was racing with a different kind of [off-guarded] excitement.

*ponders* I think I might have a jar of that...or can find some. *taps lower lip with index finger as she thinks* I do wash their little leaves off though. I keep them shiny and pretty! *cants head* When you coming home and reopening...I think some of yours got sick of me. I just can't replace you, to them! *cries* I'm not cool like you! *throws self to the ground all dramatic like*

Nathaniel ran up to Caitlyn quickly, standing in front of her. "Okay, don't hit me or hate me or anything but there's something I need to be sure of." The next thing that happened... well... no one really saw it coming. Nathaniel grabbed the werewolf and pulled her into a brief kiss. When he pulled away he thought for a moment. "Yep... just like I thought. It's like trying to kiss one of my sisters." He then shuddered a bit in horror as he let Cait go. "Okay, well... let's pretend like that awkward moment didn't happen and move on." Nathaniel then walked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

At the mention of Jack, Julliet couldn't help but smirk as she temporarily removed the cancer stick from her lips and let it rest between two fingers. How could she have nearly forgotten? "Jack sounds just fine." She replied as she slipped an arm around Caitlyn's waist and began to walk back towards the sanctuary headquarters. "I bet your office would do just the trick." She insisted happily.

The blonde embraced her leader in her arms graciously. It felt wonderful to be back. "I just had to take care of some things..." She whispered as she rubbed her cheek against the smooth surface of Caitlyn's hair. "I'm sorry I didn't give you much warning." Her own pale blue eyes fought back some extra tears. She slowly pulled away, her limp arms dropping to her sides before her hands began fumbling around in her pockets. "I could use a drink. Join me?" She asked as she slipped a cigarette between her lips and lit it quickly.

She cleared her throat before twirling a strand of blonde lock around a finger. She leaned in and questioned in a soft voice, "Miss, can you show me around? I must have lost my way." Her shiny pink lips curved up into a playful smirk as her blue eyes glimmered with subtle excitement.

Nathaniel snuck into Caitlyn's office with a handful of tools as he leaned in a bit front of her desk and got to work. "I put this here... and this there..." He whispered softly to himself, knowing he was there in the room by himself. By the time he was finished, he had set up a basket full of oranges on the werewolf's desk but underneath was the real present: A plastic container of apple juice rigged to explode and cover whoever picks an orange off the pile. "I love ya and all Cait but I gotta get back into my pranking ways. I can't get rusty." He chuckled a bit to himself as he grabbed the rest of the stuff he brought and quickly went on his way, making sure everything else was exactly where it was.

Paperwork. Good lord. He’d never signed his name so many times. The only thing he was familiar with was the look the officer gave him when he pulled out Caitlyn’s bail in cash. He obviously didn’t look like the type that actually worked for his money…Well, not the kind of work they believed in. Jackson wasn’t cut out for the whole nine to five deal. And for a moment, Jackson worried the officer may just haul him into a room and question him. Instead, he shrugged, processed the payment and told Jack to hang tight while Cait went through the process of being released.

Finally, she emerged, looking like they had put her through the ringer in the short time she was there. It was disheartening to not see her being her bubbly self. “Don’t mention it. I’d come rescue you anytime. Makes me feel useful,” he smiled, attempting to lighten her mood. He wasn’t good with crying females and he could see tears in her eyes.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. And maybe you’ll let me in on just how you managed to get yourself locked up.” Jackson rested his hand on the small of her back, and placed a soft kiss to her temple before he led them out to the parking lot. They reached his bike, he got on and held out his hand to help her on, "Hop on, love."

Why couldn't Eden be here to deal with the emotional part of this issue? He would do what he could to help Cait, after all, she was who he went to when he finally returned. Aside from Eden, she was the only one he'd known for longer than a few months. They once ran Lune together. That wasn't a relationship he could turn his back on. But the emotions just weren't his strong point. Knowing him, he'd probably end up saying something to make the situation worse. So he chose not to say too much yet.

"It's okay.." he spoke softly.

Once at his bike, and waiting to see where he had to go, he popped open a compartment on the bike and grabbed a cigarette and a lighter. He heard Cait asking someone where she was as he lit the stick and inhaled. A sound of the receiver being moved and a gruff voice was on the other end now

California State Prison. And the line went dead.

Did the moron not realize there were about five prisons that identified themselves as California State? Checking back at the number she called from, he realized then why the number seemed familiar. The area code was for the next city over. Which, hopefully, meant she was in Los Angeles. He'd be there in just under an hour if he ignored the speed limits.

Once there and getting through the ridiculous amounts of security, he was lead to where he could sort things out.

"Can I help you?" A middle aged man was sitting behind a glass window asked when Jackson approached. He apparently drew the short straw.

He recognized her voice immediately, without her even having to say. But she sounded off. So unlike her usual self. Still, the sound of her voice was a breath of fresh air. The only voices he heard lately were of the guys he fought or the skanky girls that hung around the fights, hoping to go home with one of the fighters--preferably one that hadn't been beat.

The brief smile that had graced his features dropped as she kept talking. She was trying to remain composed, yet he could tell she wasn't lying when she told him she was scared. He was already getting a shirt on and shoes, skillfully keeping the phone against his ear and spoke to her as he dressed, "It's going to be fine," he hoped he sounded calming enough. He wasn't exactly skilled in this department..luckily she wasn't scared of him."If any of them hurt you, you remember who they are and I'll deal with them when I get there."

Jackson grabbed his keys once he was dressed and was all ready out the door, heading to his motorcycle. "Do you know where you are?"

The days lately blurred together. He didn't know if it was a Monday or a Friday, but frankly, he didn't care. His life had a routine again, eat, drink, fight, drink, sleep. Rinse and repeat. Even trips to Cancun didn't help him much. It was worse there than it was out here. Regardless, it had been months since Eden had disappeared and this time, there was no finding her. She didn't leave anything behind. He never really thought things would progress the way they had, but he should have known something would happen. It always did. They had a toxic relationship and somehow, something always tore them apart. This time, he was finding it hard to move on.

Passed out on the couch, the shrill ringing of his phone pulled him out of his coma. He searched the table for it blindly, and came up empty. "Sh*t.." Sitting up, he felt the phone in his pocket and pulled it out with the intention of hitting end and going back to sleep. But something about the number made him hit accept.

There was some mumbo about accepting charges for the call. He muttered a yes, and was connected through to the caller, "Hello?"

Stepping out of the kitchen hearing Caitlyn's growling then crying out his name, Armando all but ran toward her wondering what in the h3ll was going on. After skidding to a stop, his black biker boots screeching on the floor beneath him, he looked to her then the jar then back again. ”Oh ****!! How could this have happened? NOOO!! The horror of it all! What criminal mastermind would do such a devious and sadistic thing as this?”

Livia looked at the bottle similar to the one she had given Caitlyn. The contents were orange however and the Slayer figured the orange obsessed Lycan had probably gifted her some of the woman's special orange juice. Which, of course, was awesome. Livia like orange juice and Caitlyn's was like, off limits to the world. With a meek smile and nod, Livia slipped the bottle into her coat pocket.

"About 1035am..." Her brow furrowed. "And yes, I spend most of my time training. Nothing else to do with Ryan gone all the time." She gave a small laugh. "But, thank you very much. I can't wait to try the OJ!"

Oofs, luckily the blood she carries from her own family and long dead mate has helped ... a lot! "God Cait, I am still reeling from all of this. It just happened so fast..." The Romanian hugged her closely just like she did with Phoebe and Miya. "Thank you so much for being there for me, for us." Bri wipes tears of relief away.

"So, I threw away that left over orange chicken, it was growing little creatures on it. There was also a baby doll in Noah's room that was dressed in orange, it smelled horrible. I tossed that out to."

Her cell bounced lightly on the kitchen counter, it was Caitlyn answering back. Smiling thinking out loud..... am I ready.... silly question. Briahne texts back to her. "My place, 6:00pm, don't worry about Drake. I'm making dinner and I even have a high chair for Noah!" Once she was satisfied with what she wrote, the happy girl hit send.

I...*laughs* I don't know what to say about my husband's shoe.*blinks* Tell them to start using the toilet to do their business and they can have Italian ice three times a day.*cants head* I don't think any of the shops are open that long to have it five times a day...

SO!!! *shifty eyes* Wait...*ponders* It's going to be after midnight somewhere...so how that works, iunno.*thinks hard* Is that midnight GMT +8 or -8?*cries* I'm so confused!*redirects attention back to the 'deal'* Tell them they can have it once a week or I will have to brush their teeth five times a day.*grins* OR...they have to learn to use the toilet and the water pick to receive Italian ice five times a day.

*shifty eyes* I used to have pugs but um...they kept eating the pastries and turned into French Bulldogs. *scowls* They are costing me a FORTUNE.*hands Caitlyn half the herd, pride, gaggle* You like them hm? *cants head* Just tell them to stahhhhhhp eating the pastries and to not eat any paint. *blinks*

Soulless eyes, blue green in color, stared emotionless at the redhead. What did he seek? His heart, a painting.. His girls. The German's head tipped back as he inhaled deeply, thin flesh of his lids closing briefly while thoughts of the two flitted through his head. One with mossy green eyes, the other with eyes that mirrored his own. One an art thief, the other a killer. A cruel smile pulled at his mouth. They had been so proficient at their skills, yet, both had failed their 'jobs' assigned and disappeared off the grid. Yes, they had kept in contact but they never returned 'home' for longer than a day and always demanded public meetings.

"I seek what is mine." Baritone voice responded abstractly, he couldn't divulge the plan. The risk was too great. He would seek them, find them and take them home where they belonged. "But I thank you for your attempt to assist."

The air about Phoebe was different. She had been away for a very long time to detox herself from the Realms torrid drama. Her hand pulled upon the ribbon that kept her hair up in a high pony tail letting it cascade down all about her shoulders. "Yes, its me Caitlyn. I thought I would be forgotten totally around here." She stuffed wrapped the ribbon around her wrist while taking slow deep breaths "So what have I missed?

*falls flat on her face as the bald bystander hits her**lifts head up**attempts to figure out what exactly has happened**stars stars stars**shrugs off the male and yells*DAD GET OFF YOU'RE CRUSHING MAI SMOKES!*blinks* Um...oops...*shifty eyes*DidIsaythatoutloud?*jumps up and grabs nearest Lycan* HOUNDOOM I CHOOSE YOU! *tosses at Caitlyn and runs like the wind*

*tries to wipe dirt from eyes...still**is knocked backwards with sheer force of cat hitting face**screams like a girl**clutches at animal that is attached to said face and flails wildly on ground**manages muffled words* Ohmahgah Caitlyn!!!*flings cat to the side**grabs random vampire walking by and flings at Cait* GOLBAT I CHOOSE YOU!*blinks* Erg...*attempts to crawl away on hands and knees quickly*

She smiles, holding the newly born Noah in her arms ....she hoped she was holding him right, her mother didn't let her help with her sister much. This was all too new for her. "How'm I doing ..... God Caitlyn, is so hard. He gave me the cross I wear now, it say "Forever bound in love -Your Hunter"." The girl is close to tears, fighting them back hard ... "even his wolf in full crinos form loved me. God gave him the wolf, something lead us to each other, how could ...... why he take him from me?" She wipes away the invading tears and tries to smile again. Seeing little Noah's face helps. "Uhm, orange juice ....dah, please and you more than welcome for gifts, I hope you like them." Strange things happen to people in the realm all the time, she had hoped that they had as much time as many of the others did. "I not help but thinken that this was same vampire that took me, only instead of forcing promise, he killed my mate. Dah, I need to go back soon. Maybe we close investigation and Fane take farm and rebuild. Is not home there anymore, London my home now. You come over to house one day, is plenty of room and Noah can play ....." Briahne catches herself rambling again ...her smiles turns soft as she gazes at the child again. "You have godparents for him yet? Is said in my homelands, child with godparents will never be out of love, ever."

The Romanian girl hugs her good friend back, with one arm as well, since she bears her gifts with the other hand. She moves in through her doorway, smiling softly at the infant in her arms. "Caitlyn, he's so beautiful", she say placing her hand on her chest. "You are very lucky to have him." Bri's eyes are filled with sadness even though she expresses true joy for Cait's lil one. She sets his gift and hers down to where Momma can look at them in hopes to be able to hold Noah. "May I hold him please?"

Briahne discovered from Caitlyn's text that she too was in London ... she invited the Romanian to visit her. She does this now.
Knocking on the door to where she is, already having been to a gift shop for the baby Noah, Bri waits to be admitted so that she might be able to stay her screams and tears for at least a little while. Children are precious and Caitlyn was blessed with her son.
She was dressed in all black, but not a dress or a skirt ... pants, boots and a sweater that was nicely low cut without being advertisingly so. She wished for her mate's cross's diamonds to shine and shimmer, showing all that he protected her still, even from underneath the dirt.
Her present to little Noah was a slightly larger sleeper/blanket set with a simple white rose for Caitlyn and a small basket of oranges for her too. With that blanket set is a rattle, it had been hers, non-descript for at first Bri was thought to be a Brian .... neighbors from her homeland made it and now, it belonged to Cait's little one.